


when you're cold and you're tired; when your heart has expired

by elksbian



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 14:39:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8375989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elksbian/pseuds/elksbian
Summary: regina's been dreaming about robin. he says he's not a figment of her subconscious, but considering both like to tell her she's in love with emma, she doubts it.canon up to 6x05.





	

**Author's Note:**

> me in the shower two days ago: wow i have a really cool, short one shot idea  
> me now, 4 thousand words later and still not finished with supernova:
> 
> anyway, enjoy!

Regina’s started dreaming about Robin.

 

And not in a way that insinuates that she misses him, which sounds rude, and she  _ does _ , but when he strolls into her sleep a few days after the gang finds Aladdin, she’s a little surprised, honestly. She’s been so busy, she hasn’t had time to mourn.

 

Maybe it’s also because she tries to distance herself from feeling any strong emotions because she was raised to believe love was weakness (and that includes when loved ones die), but, those are details she can have Archie psychoanalyze later.

 

“Hey, Regina,” is his greeting the first time she sees him. He’s clean shaven, which Regina secretly enjoys, because she was never a fan of his stubble. They’re in the clearing next to a forest, not unlike the last time Regina dreamt of Robin.

 

“Robin?” she asks, her body running cold, as if she’s stepped headfirst into a freezer.

 

“Glad to see me?” He answers her question with another question, a lopsided smile adorning his face.

 

“I don’t know,” Regina answers truthfully. “How are you even here?”

 

“Hades got rid of my physical self, but my soul is still here,” Robin says. “I’m actually me. It’s taken me a bit to get used to it and travel through dimensions, especially into someone’s subconscious, but…” He bounces on his heels. “Here I am.”

 

“How do I know it’s not just my subconscious creating this material?”

 

Robin shrugs. “I don’t feel like I am, but in the end, I guess that’s just for you to decide.”

 

That’s all she gets before she wakes up in a cold sweat, her eyes feeling dry and her mind whirring as if she didn’t get any sleep at all.

 

The nights continuing are the same. Regina’s tired, but she also enjoys talking to Robin, even if it’s been a configuration of her sleep deprived mind the whole time. They mostly talk. Regina tells him about Robyn, and how she’s afraid of death, even death laced with sarcasm and self doubt, and how she’s worried about Emma.

 

In fact, a lot of what they talk about is Emma.

 

On the fifth night of Robin showing up in her dreams, a picnic blanket appears in the grass of the forest they converse in.

 

“Did you bring this?” Regina asks Robin.

 

“No,” he says. “This is your dream world, not mine.”

 

“Oh,” is all Regina says. She sits down, and Robin sits beside her.

 

She enjoys Robin. She  _ does _ . And she misses him, her heart aches when she wakes up and knows he won’t be in Storybrooke during the day, but she’s also so busy on trying to figure out how to save Emma that she doesn’t have much space in between to even think about missing Robin.

 

She admits this to Robin one night, and he just laughs.

 

“I know,” he says. “I know what you’re thinking, because I’m in your dreams. It’s why I haven’t tried to bring it up.”

 

“I’m so sorry,” she says, voice tight. “I’m just worried about Emma.”

 

“I know,” he says, softer than before.

 

And Regina doesn’t say anything about what he knows, because she  _ knows  _ he knows, and he  _ knows  _ she knows he knows; she only apologizes. “You must think I move on so quickly.”

 

“Love happens,” Robin says. “I remember feeling it the instant I met Marian, but it took me months to realize. That’s what love is: it’s obvious but it’s not obvious at the same time. Maybe you’ve felt it for a while and now you’re beginning to realize it.”

 

“Is that what you think it is?” asks Regina. “Love?”

 

“Hey, you’re the one who says I’m just your imagination, so answer that yourself. You’ve known for a long time. This isn’t my fight to put my two cents in. I just want what’s best for you, and I always have.” He changes the conversation. “How’s Henry’s math grade doing?”

 

\---

 

Snow can tell something is off with Regina. No amount of makeup has been able to hide the shadow she’s developed under dark eyes, and she tells Regina this when they’re in the mansion one night, Snow helping her with groceries.

 

Regina clutches the carton of milk she’s been holding harshly for a minute, knuckles turning pale, before putting it the fridge. “I’m just overthinking.”

 

“About what?” Snow asks.

 

“Does it matter?” Lettuce and carrots are put in the vegetable drawer.

 

“Regina, you can tell me anything.” 

 

“I can?” Plums, oranges. “Maybe I’m mistaken, but I’m pretty sure decades of hate was fueled between us because you can’t keep a secret.”

 

“I never hated you,” Snow corrects. “And I’d hope that you wouldn’t treat me like you did when I was ten.”

 

“I’m in love with your daughter,” Regina blurts out, and in anger, slams the cabinet where she had just placed the peanut butter. Snow notices her jaw twitch.

 

“Oh. That’s it?”

 

“That’s  _ it _ ?” Regina pauses putting up groceries to whirl around and look at Snow. “I can’t even mourn Robin like I should be, he was my  _ soulmate _ , because I think about Emma smiling at me. Not to mention, I’m so caught up in trying to make sure she doesn’t heroically kill herself, or worse, trying to make sure  _ I  _ don’t kill her, Henry has to remind me to eat. My teenage son has to tell me to cook dinner. How pathetic is that? How pathetic is my love?”

 

“Your love isn’t pathetic at all.” Snow takes Regina’s hand in her own, squeezing it. “I know what your love feels like. It’s the strongest thing I’ve witnessed.”

 

“I’ve been dreaming about Robin, too,” says Regina. “I don’t know if it’s actually him or just a figment of my imagination, but I dream about him every night, and we talk. He knows I love Emma. And I think he’s okay with it. Or my subconscious is. Whatever this means.”

 

“Tell her,” Snow deadpans. “Tell her you love her.”

 

“And what? Have her laugh in my face because it wasn’t too long ago that we went to hell for her boyfriend? I don’t need that heartache.”

 

“I’ve tried telling her we were all against it,” admits Snow. “That maybe she’d be better off. She doesn’t listen to me.”

 

“She doesn’t listen to me either.”

 

“But you could stop it,” Snow says. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you. If she doesn’t know yet, she will soon. You could stop the cycle of her being in pain. And you could stop yours, too.”

 

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” Regina whispers, and Snow uses her other hand to cover the hand of Regina’s she’s holding. “And, Snow, no offense, but she doesn’t look at me any differently. You’d find love in an anthill.”

 

“Maybe she doesn’t look at you any differently because she’s always loved you,” Snow points out. “And ants deserve love, too. There’s a Disney movie for it, you know.”

 

“You better knock on wood,” jokes Regina, “or the next villains we defeat will be human sized ants, and I don’t think there will be enough bug repellent in the world to get rid of that.”

“Regina! Maybe you could show her if you’re too scared to tell her?” Regina raises an eyebrow at Snow’s suggestion. “Like, I don’t know, buy her flowers. Egg Hook’s ship. She could figure it out.”

 

“I doubt it. She may have inherited your husbands…  _ charming  _ abilities,” Snow smirks at this, “but she also inherited his denseness.”

 

Snow sighs. “I guess. Accounts for thick heads, though. Hard for them to get hurt.”

 

They both laugh.

 

\---

 

Almost two weeks in, Regina’s become so sleep deprived she falls asleep on the book she’s reading in the Charmings’ kitchen, feet hanging loosely from the barstool she sits on. When she’s awoken by a finger tapping her shoulder, she’s startled, and Robin’s form is immediately fizzled out instead of the usual fading it does. She looks up with tired eyes to see Emma above her, concern written in her eyebrows.

 

“Are you okay?” Emma asks.

 

“I’m fine,” Regina snaps, and when she watches Emma’s lips dip down and shoulders slump, she reconsiders her tone. “I’m sorry. I haven’t been getting much sleep.”

 

Emma sits down next to her, and Regina suddenly feels the materials of her clothing against her skin. “You shouldn’t be reading all the time, then.”   
  


“Emma, I’m doing it so you don’t  _ die _ .”

 

“Oh yeah?” Emma’s voice gets stiffer, and she crosses her arms. “What if I don’t care about that?” I’m the savior. It’s my job to save people. If I die, I die saving the people I care about.”

 

“You can’t just think about your life like that!” Regina curses the tears that start to prick the corners of her eyes. “You’re important Emma, to everyone here. You can’t think like that.”

 

“Then what makes you think  _ you  _ can think like this?” asks Emma. “You’ve been thinking about  _ my  _ possible impending death and not even thinking about yours. You told me you had to die when we were at the docks and you haven’t mentioned it since. Imagine how you feel. I feel the same. I can’t sleep at night, either, Regina, because I’m so scared for you. I care about you as much as you care about me, you know?”

 

Regina’s chest contracts when Emma’s voice cracks. A marquee of bright, flashing letters appears in her mind when Emma asks her question, though.

 

_ No, you don’t care about me like I care about you. There’s no way. It’s just not possible. _

 

She stays silent, and Emma takes this for a victory. It is, but Regina’s tongue hurts from biting.

 

“That’s what I thought,” she says, and she swipes the thick, old book from Regina’s grasp before she has the chance to get a word in edgewise. She doesn’t want to when the book is swiped, either, when decades worth of dust flies up and could possibly get caught in Regina’s throat.

 

Emma looks at the dust in disgust before swishing the air with her hand for a good thirty seconds, pushing the dust in a direction away from the two woman. She starts to close the book.

 

“Hey!” Regina protests. “Don’t make me lose my place.”

 

Emma starts to dogear the page Regina was reading before her impromptu snooze.

 

“ _ Hey _ !” Regina says, louder, “Don’t ruin my pages!” She magicks up a ribbon bookmark. “Use this instead.”

 

Emma, slightly, flushed, takes the bookmark and places it in the book. She then grins evilly before shutting the book, finally, and marching across the kitchen to stand on her tiptoes and place the book on top of the fridge.

 

“There,” she says, dusting her hands off with pride. “You can’t reach it now.”

 

Regina rolls her eyes. “You know I can just poof it down here with magic.”

 

“But you won’t.” Emma gives Regina a cheeky grin. “Because that’ll make me sad.”

 

“Sorry for wanting to save your life,” Regina mumbles, and stands up, straightening her pencil skirt. When she looks up, she sees that Emma has walked towards her, and her brain doesn’t have time to tell her body to stop before she lifts her head and her and Emma’s faces are only inches apart.

 

“I’m not mad at you for trying to save me from my supposed death. Why would I be?” Emma places her hands on Regina’s shoulders, and Regina’s chest feels warm, and she can practically feel the air buzzing with electricity. “I’m only upset because that means you’re not giving time to worry about yourself. You don’t need to prioritize me over yourself.”

 

Regina scoffs, hoping it will make the flutters in her stomach fly away. “I prioritize a lot of things over myself, try not to feel too special.”

 

Emma just laughs, no voice, only air, and scoops Regina into a hug. Regina, startled, presses her faces into Emma’s sternum, and Emma rests on the crown of Regina’s head. Regina, having forgone her heels when first sitting on the barstool, is several inches shorter than she’s used to being, but being below Emma feels surprisingly comforting. Emma’s arms are around her upper back, and Regina shyly brings her arms up around Emma’s own back and clings to her shoulders.

 

They stay like this until the two of them hear the door open, and then they both jump away from each other.

 

“I have to go,” Regina rushes out, slipping her heels back on. She rushes past Emma, and Snow, who had been the culprit of entering her own home (who also shoots her a look because she knows without even asking), and she tries to pay too much attention to the echoes she makes when she walks down the stairs.

 

She doesn’t notice Emma looking at the her calloused hands, wondering what went wrong.

 

That night, Regina almost cries when she sees Robin on their picnic blanket, looking into the dream sunset. He turns around, knowing she’s been there the whole time.

 

“Hey, Regina,” he greets.

 

“We hugged,” Regina sits down, criss crossing her legs like she was taught to not do (she’s able to, as she’s always in her pajamas when she talks to Robin), and cuts to the chase.

 

“Is that bad?” asks Robin.

 

“I don’t know.” Regina thinks, her eyebrows scrunching together. “I don’t… I don’t think we’ve ever hugged before.”

 

“That’s odd,” Robin says, stating the obvious. “Are you two scared to touch, or something?”

 

“Or something.” Regina laughs, but not because she thinks Robin was funny. “Hell if I know. We’ll sacrifice our lives for each other, but that was the first hug we’ve ever shared.”

 

“It’s okay to be scared of your feelings,” Regina hears, but all she sees is the dark cracks in her ceiling.

 

Before she has a chance to fall back asleep, she gets a call from her home phone. It’s Snow, the only one to ever use a home phone.

 

“Grumpy spotted a hooded figure near the pawn shop. We need you,” is all Snow says. 

 

\---

 

Emma wakes up to metal scraping something. When she peeks downstairs, ready to fight whoever is downstairs, she sees Killian, twirling the golden shears on the stand next to the couch.

 

“Killian?” she says. “I thought you dumped the shears in the lake.”

 

Killian jumps at the sound of her voice, and looks up at her, guilt written on his face. “And have you die? I couldn’t, Emma.”

 

“I asked you to. I thought you did.” Emma crosses her arms, feeling chilly in only a tank top.

 

“I did what was best for you.” 

 

Emma storms towards him and snatches the shears from his hand. He stands up, surprised. “You  _ didn’t _ do what was best for me! You went behind my back! We said no more secrets. And you created one the night we promised we wouldn’t hide things from each other.”

 

“But can’t you see? You won’t die now. No one has to die now.” Emma stares down at the shears she’d just taken, and then looks up at her boyfriend with raging fire in her eyes.

 

“You cut the strings.” It’s not a question.

 

“Zeus gave me another favor,” says Killian. “He cut your strings from Fate. You can’t die now.”

 

“Do you even know the consequences of what you just did?” yells Emma. She backs away. “I might not have magic anymore! That’s what happened to Aladdin. He also had to watch Agrabah fall because he chose to be cut from his fate. Why did you do this without  _ asking _ me?”

 

“I love you, Emma.” Killian’s eyes are shining, tears on the verse of his vision.

 

“You may love me, but you don’t trust me.” Emma’s voice shakes, and she takes in a deep breath, making a decision. “I’m done. I can’t keep going like this. You lied to me. You made a detrimental decision and you did it behind my back. This isn’t the first time; will it even be the last?”

 

Killian is silent.

 

Emma continues. “I’m going to the docks and I’m going to throw these as far as I can, because obviously the only person I can trust with these is myself. I’m going to come back, and you’re going to be done. Your stuff will be gone in the next week, too, or I’ll have Regina burn it.”

 

“Of course you’ll go back to her,” Killian snaps, and Emma rolls her eyes.

 

Shears clutches in her hand, she marches up to her bedroom to pull a sweater over her head and shimmy on a loose(r) pair of jeans. When she comes back down, she sees that Killian has already left.

 

She heads in the direction of the docks.

 

\---

 

Regina poofs onto Main Street and sees Snow, Charming, Henry, and the pirate standing around.

 

“Henry, what are you doing here?” Regina asks.

 

“I didn’t want to leave him alone in the apartment,” Snow says, and Regina nods.

 

“And Hook?” Regina side eyes the pirate, who seems to be sulking.

 

“Just passing by,” he mutters.

 

“Where do you think the figure could be?” David wonders, and the gang looks around aimlessly.

 

“Probably where Emma is,” Regina muses. “Does anyone know where she is?”

 

“She’s at the docks,” Hook answers, and everyone turns to look at him.

 

“We don’t have enough time to get to the docks before the figure,” Snow whispers, and the mood drops.

 

An idea forms in Regina’s mind. She closes her eyes, concentrates for almost a full minute, and then opens them, a sword heavy in her hand and the weight of more hair on her shoulders.

 

She sees Snow, seeming shorter than usual, staring at her in confusion. “What are you doing?” she asks.

 

“Baiting the queen,” Regina says, and that’s when they hear footsteps.

 

When the hooded figure strolls down Main Street like it owns the place, Regina is ready. The figure stops when it’s close to her, and even in the silence, Regina can tell it’s mocking her. It takes a sword out. This one is skinnier, but sharper.

 

Regina tries to strike, but her hand starts to shake. Her sword clatters to the ground, and she stares at her in shock.

 

Except, technically, it’s not her hand she’s staring at.

 

It’s too late when she looks up, she feels the figure’s sword enter her, like a bad potion twisting her stomach in all the wrong places. She screams, and falls to her side, the sword still embedded in her.

 

And when the figure coughs up a pool of blood onto the street, Regina grins.

 

\---

 

Emma looks at the waves of the coast, a dark blue in the middle of the night. The moon’s reflection moves with the waves, shimmering.

 

She breaks the serene view by flinging the shears as far as she can, the splash echoing loudly. She then plops down onto the docks, the wood cold against her ass.

 

She ignores it, staring at her hands instead, earlier in the day flashing into her mind. Why had Regina been scared to hug her? Was she scared of Emma?

 

No, that couldn’t be it. Regina was still her sarcastic self around Emma. Regina still  _ seemed  _ comfortable around Emma.

 

And what did Killian mean when saying that Emma would go back to Regina?

 

Was he…  _ jealous _ of Regina?

 

Puzzle pieces started to form together in her mind. The creases in her hands seemed to get deeper, and she blinked, rubbing her eyes and watching colors dance around her vision.

 

Her boyfriend, well, when he was her boyfriend, had been jealous of Regina.

 

Emma needed to ask Regina a question.

 

She looked at her hands again, clenching them, and she stood up. But she quickly loses her balance, resting her hands on her knees when the vision she’s been seeing since they returned from New York rushes into her brain.

 

She dies.

 

And when she sees the empty docks again, vision over, she stand back up, panic rushing over her. Even though it was against her will, Killian had cut her strings. The vision isn’t supposed to come true.

 

She starts to run towards Main Street.

 

\---

 

The Evil Queen is beside Regina, wiping the blood pouring from her mouth. “How is this even possible?”

 

Regina laughs, and, her magic weakening, anyways, drops her facade. “Got you,” she manages to rasp out.

 

“Regina!” she hears Snow cry out, and suddenly, people are around her. She sees Snow, and Henry, and David. She even sees Hook.

 

“It was the only way to get you,” Regina whispers, looking up, but knowing the queen can hear her. “It was the only way to defeat you and make sure Emma got out of this alive.”

 

“You idiot,” the queen seethes. “Mother told you love was weakness, and you’re weak for not listening to her.”

 

“No,” Regina says. “Love is strength.”

 

When her family surrounding her escapes her view, her heart drops, but it picks up again when their faces are replaced by Emma’s.

 

“Regina,” she says, and Regina can feel herself being propped up. It hurts. “Regina, I saw my vision again. I saw myself die.”

 

“Wasn’t you,” Regina says. “I pretended to be you.”

 

“Why?” Emma’s crying now. “Why would you do that?”

 

“Had to.”

 

“Regina.” Emma’s voice gets stony, and Regina can see her throat bobble. “I have to ask you a question.”

 

“It’s not like I have anywhere to go,” says Regina, and Emma only cries harder. 

 

“Don’t die, okay?” she asks. “Because I think I love you. I mean, I  _ know  _ I love you, but I think I  _ love  _ you. And I think you love me, too, huh? Do you?”

 

“I wouldn’t get myself stabbed for just anyone,” Regina chokes out, and she feels her torso get wetter. She feels a hand squeeze hers, and she knows it’s Henry.

 

“Well,” she hears Henry say, the tightness in his voice tangible, like the frost in the air, “if you’re able to be sarcastic, you’ll make it.”

 

Regina scoffs, knowing otherwise, but she puts all of her strength into squeeze Henry’s hand back.

 

“We have to help you.” Emma looks up, and Regina stares at the cleft in Emma’s chin. “Mom! Dad! We need to get to a hospital!”

 

She hears David’s voice when he says, “The Queen is dead.”

 

“Not much longer for me, then,” Regina sighs. “Emma, look at me.”

 

Emma looks at her. With a determined look in her eye, she kisses Regina’s forehead, Regina’s cheek, closer and closer to Regina’s lips. Henry is repeatedly kissing her hand with his own chapped lips.

 

“It doesn’t work like that,” Regina whispers, and Emma kisses her lips after she finished the last word. Her lips are soft, and salty, and Regina cherishes every moment she tastes them.

 

“I know,” Emma whispers back, and Regina closes her eyes. “No, Regina, open your eyes. Call me an idiot. Insult my wardrobe. Please, you’ve got to stay awake!”

 

“Can’t,” Regina groans. “Too tired.”

 

“Mom.” She knows Henry is crying now. “Don’t leave.”

 

“The password to Henry’s college fund account is his birthday,” Regina says, and that’s the last thing she says before the world turns blacker than night.

 

\---

 

Archie closes the door to his office. It’s late, but this is the only time the flowers he needs for ingredients to a incense that he puts in his office to calm his patients bloom, so night is when he collects it. He’s surprised to see Storybrooke’s homemade Avengers in the middle of the street, though. He notices them huddle around what seems to be a pair of bodies.

 

“What’s the matter?” he asks.

 

Emma looks up, her face pale and void of emotion, having it all stored in her eyes.

 

“My vision came true,” she says, and Archie is able to see Regina and the Evil Queen, Regina cradled in Emma’s arms. “Except I wasn’t the savior that was killed.”


End file.
